


From the Ashes

by firnae



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Gen, Rite of Tranquility
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 21:19:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14173635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firnae/pseuds/firnae
Summary: I found this while cleaning out my files. This was originally a part of a long series I was co-creating, but it was never completed. However, I really love this back story I had written for my OC, so here you go :)





	From the Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> I found this while cleaning out my files. This was originally a part of a long series I was co-creating, but it was never completed. However, I really love this back story I had written for my OC, so here you go :)

Ophelia Trevelyan was wide awake. She stared up at the ceiling, listening to the breathing and soft snores of the other mages in the dormitory. She closed her eyes, willing herself to go to sleep, but to no avail.     

        Sighing, she leaned over the side of her top bunk and peered over to the bed below.

“ _Psst!_ Maria, are you awake?” she whispered. All she heard in response was a muffled _no_ , and the shift of a mattress.

Ophelia tried again.

“Maria, I can’t sleep.” This time, she heard an exhausted sigh and the creak of the bedframe as Maria sat up.

“What is it?” Maria mumbled. Ophelia swiftly swung her feet off the edge of the top bunk and quietly dropped down to the floor. Maria raised an eyebrow as Ophelia seated herself at the end of the bed.

“You know, there is a ladder you could use,” Maria said.

“Yes, but that wouldn’t be half as fun,” Ophelia replied.

Maria laughed softly, pulling her knees up to her chest to make room on the small bed. She looked intently at her friend. “What’s wrong?”

Ophelia was silent for a minute, not wanting to admit what was keeping her up, but she felt the need to tell someone. She so carefully maintained her image of the rebellious, unbreakable mage, but the only person she could truly tell anything to was Maria. Ophelia closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“I’m afraid.”

Maria’s face softened at the realization. She leaned forward, straight dark hair falling into her face, and took Ophelia’s hands in hers. “You are going to do absolutely fine.”

“But what if I don’t make it? What if I fail? I’ll be trapped in the Fade forever.”

Maria’s brow furrowed. “You are one of the best mages here. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. You _will_ pass your Harrowing.”

Ophelia shook her head slightly. “How can you be so sure?”

“Look at all you have done. You’ve studied all you could. You can call on your magic quicker than any else, and far better than myself, that’s for sure.” Maria gave her a sad smile.

“Don’t say that.”

“Look at me. They haven’t even called me for my Harrowing and I’m a year older than you.”

Ophelia sat silent for a moment, studying her friend’s face. The fact that Maria had not had her Harrowing yet was something that Ophelia did not want to think about. Maria was decent with her magic, but her true talents lay in studying and knowledge. The practical application never came as easily as it did for Ophelia. And if she did not go through her Harrowing soon, then the only other option…

Ophelia threw her arms around her friend, hugging her tightly. She did not want to think about what could happen, especially when that possible future was a dark one.

Maria wrapped her arms around Ophelia in return. “Whatever happens, I just want you to know how glad I am to have you as a friend,” she said softly.

Ophelia felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes and a sharp twinge in her stomach as her friend held her even tighter. Her thoughts wandered for a split second. The thought of losing her… Maria was her best friend—her only friend—but some days… _No. You cannot afford to think like that. Not now._

Ophelia buried her face into Maria’s shoulder.

“Yeah. Me too.”

—

_Falling._

_Disoriented._

_Nothing but mist in all directions._

_“Ophelia…”_

_A voice?_

_Maria’s voice._

_“Ophelia…”_

_A temptation._

This isn’t real.

—

Ophelia woke up with a gasp. Her light blue eyes quickly darted around the room.

Unfamiliar walls. Unfamiliar bed. Unfamiliar voices from behind a closed door.

She slowly sat up, wincing at the pounding headache that was beginning to emerge. She blinked a few times in an attempt to clear the fog in her mind. She felt completely disoriented. Lifting her hands up to her face, Ophelia checked to see if this was not still a dream.

Two hands: real. Ten fingers: real.

She ran her hand down her strawberry blonde braid as she swung her legs off the side of the small bed and her head swam.

“Oh good! You’re awake.”

Ophelia looked up to see an older woman walk in with various potions and poultices. A healer.

“Where am I?” Ophelia asked. “What happened?”

The old woman smiled. “You’re in the infirmary. Been out for a few days, but that is normal after one goes through their Harrowing.”

_Her Harrowing._

She passed.

She stood up, a bit too quickly, and almost fell over as her vision blurred. The healer grabbed her by the shoulders and sat her back down on the bed.

“You need to rest for a while longer,” the woman said.

“But I have to go. I have to see my friend—it’s important,” Ophelia argued.

“You’ll see everyone in time. But right now, you need to lie back down.” The healer’s kind tone took on a hard edge—a mother scolding a child. And like a child, Ophelia pouted but reluctantly lay down again.

Ophelia waited until the healer left, which took ages. The woman took her time arranging potions, filling vials, checking supplies, until _finally_ , she left. Ophelia stayed for a minute to give the healer some distance, before springing out of the bed and almost falling over once again.

She snuck out of the infirmary and made her way down to the younger mages’ quarters, avoiding others as went along. Finally, she burst through the door and into the dormitory.

“Maria! I passed! I— ” Ophelia stopped abruptly. No one was there. The entire room was empty.

She whirled around at the sound of the door opening behind her. A younger mage walked in, his nose in a book and completely oblivious to Ophelia’s presence.

“Howard! Have you seen Maria?” she asked.

The boy blinked a few times, shocked back into reality. “Uh, she’s not here.”

Ophelia rolled her eyes. “I can _see_ that, but where is she? She’s usually in here at this time of day.”

Howard merely shrugged and tried to get back to his book, but there was a strange look in his eyes. Like he was scared.

Ophelia was gripped with panic.

She rushed over and grabbed the book out of his hands.

“Hey! Give that back!”

“Where is she?” She held the book up high in the air. “I know you know. _Tell me_.”

Ophelia’s rising voice and panicked eyes were enough to frighten the young mage into confessing, words spilling out rapidly. “She went to go see the First Enchanter. One of the older mages came down the morning after you left. I don’t know why the First Enchanter needed to see her, but that’s all I know I swear.” He paused for a breath. “Now can I please have my book back?”

The color drained out of her face and her fingers let go of the book, sending it crashing to the floor. Ophelia raced out of the dormitory, shoving Howard out of the way, not stopping to apologize. She dodged the other mages in the hall as she ran to the one place she dreaded going. The last place she ever wanted herself or anyone else to be sent.

She paused outside the door at the end of the hallway, trying to catch her breath.

_Maker please, don’t let this be it. Anything but this._

Ophelia hoped she was wrong. She wanted so badly to be wrong.

Gripping the door handle so tightly that her knuckles turned a ghostly white, she slowly pushed open the door.

Shelves of ingredients, bottles, and other ephemera lined the walls. Books were neatly piled on tables where the Tranquil studied, spread throughout the large chamber. Her eyes frantically searched for the one face she so dreaded seeing.

Not finding a familiar face, Ophelia took a step farther into the room. No one acknowledged her presence. It was if she was wandering through unseen. A ghost.

Her heart sped up as she passed each table, hope and dread both growing as she looked at each unknown Tranquil. She was about to leave when—

There.

At a table in the back corner of the room.

_No. Please, Maker. Please be wrong_.

Ophelia approached the Tranquil, whose back was to her. Shaking, Ophelia placed a hand on the Tranquil’s shoulder.

“Can I help you with anything?”

Ophelia stumbled back as Maria turned around, the right of tranquility blazing on her forehead.

“No…” Ophelia began to panic. “No, no…”

“I do not understand. Is there anything I can help you with?” The way Maria stared at her with that blank expression… Whoever she was before was gone. She was now a former shell of herself.

Tears began to stream down Ophelia’s face.  “Why? Why would they do this to you?” Her voice was barely a whisper as she so desperately tried to hold herself together.

Maria simply blinked. “It is better this way.”

“ _No_. No it’s not.” Ophelia reached a shaking hand up to Maria’s face. Maria did not even flinch as Ophelia placed a hand on her cheek.

“ _Why?_ ” she asked again through tears. She gasped for breath.

Slowly, Ophelia took a step back. “I will find a way. I promise, I will find a way to change this. Maria, I—”

_I love you_.

The words danced on the tip of her tongue, but she could not force herself to say them out loud. She took another step back, Maria’s brown eyes staring blankly back at her. One more step, then Ophelia quickly turned on her heels and _ran_.

She ran up and up until she reached the top of the tower and turned into an empty, dusty alcove.

Ophelia sat in silence, tears never stopping, hands still shaking. But her sadness and panic slowly became replaced by an inexplicable _rage_.

She would find a way to bring Maria back, no matter the cost.

—

Day after day, Ophelia spent all her time in the library reading anything she could find. Books on herbology and healing. Tomes on older, arcane practices. Dusty scrolls detailing elven rituals. She even managed to find a book in a long forgotten corner of the library on blood magic—a book that should have been confiscated long ago. But none of her studies proved to be anything of worth.

Ophelia sat in a dark corner of the library, long after she should have been asleep. She had been evading the patrolling Templars for the better part of two hours, and was starting to grow weary. She extinguished a floating orb of light with the flick of her wrist, and was plunged into darkness.

She sat for a moment, thinking. All of this researching and reading was pointless. She’d never find a cure. Maria was lost to her forever.

_Maria…_

        Ophelia had not gone back since that day. She could not bring herself to see her friend look at her with that blank expression. Everything Maria was—kind, intelligent, quiet yet surprisingly devious—was now lost to the ages.

        Exhausted, Ophelia made her way out of the library, carefully avoiding Templars. Mind elsewhere, she was not paying attention to where her feet were taking her, until she ended up outside the door to the Tranquil’s work space. It should have been empty for the night, but voices wafted out from under the door. Curious, Ophelia placed an ear to the door and listened.

        Two voices. A man’s and what sounded like…  _ No _ .

        Ophelia threw the door open and it slammed against the wall. Her eyes went wide and rage boiled through her veins as she took in the scene: Maria pinned to a table, vacant and compliant, as a Templar happily took advantage of the situation.

        The Templar looked up and swore. Ophelia clenched and unclenched her fists, sparks flying from the tips of her fingers.

“Get your hands OFF OF HER,” she screamed, as she sent a fireball hurtling through the air. The Templar quickly ducked, just narrowly missing the flames. Ophelia launched herself at him, fury propelling her forward. She shot another fireball, missing again and hitting a shelf, bottles and vials exploding in every direction. She shot a third, managing to hit him in the shoulder.

        The Templar cried out in pain as the magic melted through his armor plating. 

        “You  _ bitch _ !” he cursed through gritted teeth, advancing toward her.

The Templar grabbed her arm, managing to unsheathe a dagger in the process. Ophelia swung up with her other arm and hit him in the jaw. The Templar swore again and brought the dagger down, slicing the left side of her temple.

Dazed from the pain, Ophelia let down her guard, allowing the Templar to hit her upside the head, plunging her into darkness.

—

Ophelia slowly came into consciousness. She tried to open her eyes, only to find the one had been partially swollen shut. She propped herself up on her elbows, trying to hold back the nausea that immediately hit her. With her good eye, she quickly looked around the room.

She was back in the infirmary. Sitting up fully, she brought a hand up to her temple, from where a throbbing pain was emanating. She winced as she touched the bandage covering the wound.

_What had happened?_

Ophelia sat silent on the bed where she had been just over a month earlier. The disorientation and fogginess was familiar, but the tone was much, much darker.

Realization hit, and Ophelia’s knuckles turned white as she clenched the mattress.

_Maria._

The mage was overcome by an unquenchable fire that boiled through her. She would make sure that Templar never saw the light of day again. She would make him wish that he would never been born in the first place. And once she was done with him, she’d find others and do the same.

        But she wasn’t sure what would happen to her. She had assulted a Templar. And no matter how much he deserved it, that would not go unpunished. A plethora of possible punishments awaited her. But above all that, one thought kept rolling through her mind over and over: would she ever see Maria again?

She tried to push the unpleasant thought aside. She had a new mission now.

Never again would any mage be harmed at the hands of a Templar.

Because she would make them pay.

_All of them_.


End file.
